


Closure

by navaan



Category: Velvet Goldmine
Genre: First Date, M/M, Reunions, Romance, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur tries to move on after meeting Curt at the end of the movie... But does he have to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closure

It was a more then surreal feeling to suddenly stand face to face with Curt Wild in a cheesy bar after trying to get in contact with him unsuccessfully for days. His reasons for trying to get in contact had been strictly professional of course, but now standing here in an albeit casually private setting, all Arthur could see, was the idol he once had looked up to, the man he had slept with on a rooftop ten years ago.

He had to force himself to come back from the short memory high and introduce himself as the pestering reporter, that had tried to get in contact – and suddenly Arthur and Curt were sitting there drinking and talking about Brian Slade. A man who had in different ways impacted both of their lives irrevocably.

When Curt left and he found the gift in form of the green stone that allegedly had belonged to Oscar Wilde, Arthur felt strangely at peace with himself. He couldn't care less, that Brian Slade had become the opposite of what he once was, or that he himself still wasn't sure if he had found his place in life.

Was this closure? Arthur was reluctant to think about it, fearing to chase away the peaceful mood.

& & & & & &

He went back to work, got o with his life. He covered some rather boring assignments that week. But the feeling of peace still didn't leave him. He kept the token Curt had bestowed him with in his pocket and carried it around like a lucky charm. After all the strange years he had spend as a mooning teenaged groupie, who would have thought that ten years later he would be able to meet Curt Wild like this – even if it had been only for a brief and fleeting moment and even if Curt would most likely forget about it as fast as he probably had forgotten about the fan boy he had fucked in a haze of narcotics.

Arthur was not sad about it because for him both moments in time had been memorable experiences he cherished.

When he came back to his flat he set it down beside his phone on his desk, started to cook dinner. His phone rang. He considered not picking up. Who would call him this late in the evening, but his short time ex-boyfriend Tom? But what if it was something important? Work?

He picked up. “Hello?”

“Is that Arthur Stuart?” a voice replied a bit rushed.

“Yes. Who is speaking?” Arthur felt a little uneasy.

“Oh. I'm sorry to call you this late in the evening... I... This is Curt. Curt Wild. I called your office to get your number. I hope you are not mad... I... I didn't disturb you, did I?”

Arthur sat there frozen by momentary shock and disbelief, not knowing what to say, or by all means how to phrase a sentence. 

“Arthur?”

“I'm sorry.” he blurted. “I don't understand. Why are you calling? Why would you be calling _me_?” Possible scenarios played out in Arthur's head, the most likely being, that Curt wanted to know, what he intended to do with his knowledge of Brian's new identity.

There was a short silence then the man on the other side cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you.” Arthur had figured as much. The question remained, what he wanted to talk about. “Actually I wanted to meet you in that bar, but you never came back there again.”

Arthur was at a loss. “You went back to the bar?”

“Yes. There are still some things I have to ask you. Would you meet me?”

The journalist in Arthur felt curiosity and the fan boy screamed his agreement, but the man with memories of Curt was reluctant to give up on the peaceful feeling of closure. “What is it, you want to know? Is it about Slade?”

“No, it's nothing like that.” Curt seemed a bit taken aback then cleared his throat again. “Just meet me tomorrow evening. We can meet at the bar if you want to. I'll be there.”

& & & & &

And Curt _was_ already there when Arthur arrived: sitting at the same hidden table in the corner, where they had talked last time. Aside from a few guests the bar was nearly empty and Artur could feel the nervousness forming knots inside his stomach. When he got near, Curt looked up at him - an equally nervous smile on his lips and indicated a chair. Arthur sat down, not bothering to get out of his jacket, unsure what to expect.

Silence. Both men were sitting there acutely aware of the others presence, still not really looking at each other. When Arthur finally got up the courage to look at the musician their eyes met and Arthur felt butterflies stirring in his gut. “So, it _is_ you.” Curt said with a soft intake of breath. “All those years I asked myself what had become of that beautiful boy I seduced after that stupid concert...”

“You remember?” Arthur could feel himself go pale with shock.

“Remember?” Curt gave a near silent laugh. “We were both kind of high then, weren't we? But yeah, I couldn't ever forget... That night was so surreal that for a time I thought it was an overly vivid dream.” He smiled. “You look as if you are about to faint.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “This is what you wanted to talk about? About what happened ten years ago?”

Curt smiled benevolently. “Sure. What did you think? That I wanted to sell you drugs?”

“No.”

“You seem like a respectable guy yourself, Mister Stuart.”

“Why thank you, Mister Wild”, Arthur jokingly supplied. He felt kind of light headed.

“Who would have thought the amazing kid would grow up to be such a handsome man. I'm kind of intrigued. May I call you Arthur?”

The journalist nodded flabbergasted.

& & & & &

A week after the talk in the bar, Arthur's phone rang and when he picked up he was surprised into silence, when without pretense Curt asked: “Will you go out with me on Saturday?”

It took a moment to really register. “Like on a date?”

“Yes.” The patient reply came immediately.

“Why?”

“Because I am free on Saturday and I have to leave Monday for some gigs in the South West. So are you free?”

Arthur had to smile. “Yes, sure.” Sometimes closure was just the beginning...

 


End file.
